Challenge Accepted
by 2NYwLove
Summary: Putting all new challenges into one story! Quote Swap Challenge: Haunted ft. Sheldon Places/Mood: Keep in the Light ft Sid 1st person: Come as you are ft. Adam, Events: Moment to catch fire ft Stella/Reed Room: Jo/John Curtis, Quote Challenge 2: Hurricane Drunk ft Adam/Lucy, Children's Challenge ft Lindsay.
1. Haunted ft Sheldon (Quote Swap)

Quote Swap Challenge from **smuffly:**

_Sheldon Hawkes..._

_Danny and Lindsay's apartment..._

_"We all have that one case that haunts us." (originally spoken by Stella)..._

_**A/N This is a long overdue challenge fic, because I didn't know I had gotten my assignment until a couple of days ago. Real life or something. This is a future fic, because I have been re-reading all my other challenges and they seem to always have a future focus and it does include glimpses of the whole team and my OC Gus. Hope you enjoy my take on the quote swap challenge.**_

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April 2014

Sheldon Hawkes considered himself a man of above average intelligence, a fact supported by his graduation from college at eighteen and becoming a fully board certified surgeon by twenty-four. He also considered himself a man of logic, that was what had attracted him to the Office of the Medical Examiner and later to the controlled and linear environment of the CSI lab. So given those two things, why could he not seem to properly adhere a simple diaper to the bottom of the eight month old on the changing table before him?

The answer to that lay in the fact that despite being intelligent and logical, Sheldon Hawkes was also a kind and sympathetic soul who always rushed to help others. That was how he found himself in Danny and Lindsay's apartment on that beautiful evening, the first of the year with a true hint of the unfurling of Spring's delicate wings. He was there because he couldn't help but swoop in to the save the day when the Messers found themselves short a babysitter right as they were readying to go on a date night for the first time in ages due to Mama Messer's sudden case of shingles.

Sheldon happened to overhear the conversation as he was hanging up his lab coat for the day, looking forward to his own date night with Camille, something they had to pen in between both of their busy work schedules and the seemingly endless stream of tasks needing completion before their nuptials in a month's time. This fact was why he held his tongue at first, instead just turning sympathetic eyes toward the couple as they ran through a list of backup babysitters.

"Jo?" Danny said, hopefully, realizing he hadn't seen her all day and hoping she was off.

"She's on night-shift, same as Adam. Mac is already on the train out to Long Island to have dinner with Christine's family," Lindsay sighed, after having hung up with the last of the teenagers they trusted.

"Are you sure Ellie can't handle two more?" Danny said, more than a hint of desperation creeping into his voice.

Lindsay rolled her eyes, "Ellie can't handle the two she is watching tonight, Gus just told me the twins have discovered climbing and she caught Don looking up and I quote 'baby's first holding cell', so I am not adding our cruiser to the mix."

"Lucy might actually be a help," he pressed on.

"At home, one on one with Louis, maybe. I'm sorry, we'll just have to reschedule."

"Lindsay," Danny cried, "how long did it take us to get this date on the calendar?"

Sheldon didn't catch Lindsay's reply, distracted by the buzzing of his phone. _Sorry, hot stuff, fitting emergency, have to cancel. Xoxo C _Sheldon suppressed a sigh, Camille had graciously allowed a friend design her wedding down, but that was rapidly becoming a disaster. Unfortunately his fiancée was a stickler for tradition and wouldn't let him help because that would mean seeing the dress before the wedding. Not being able to solve his bride to be's problems is most likely what loosened Sheldon's tongue, it springing into action before he was even aware of what he was saying. "I could watch them."

He felt the weight of two pairs of eyes land heavily and desperately upon him, studying him carefully.

"You sure, Doc?" Danny said, trying to determine if his friend was playing a practical joke.

Sheldon nodded, he couldn't back out of it now. Besides, how difficult could it be, he was a trained physician, after all.

Lindsay raised her eyebrows, a smile spreading across her face. "He could use the practice anyway, Messer, Camille is all but already knitting baby booties."

Sheldon felt blood rush to his cheeks, it was true that Camille had made no secret of her desire to have children with him as soon as the ink was dry on their marriage license, he just didn't know that her openness extended to the margarita nights she had joined in on. Though he appreciated the team accepting the woman he loved, he wasn't so sure they would, given how their early relationship had effected his work.

* * *

"You're doing it wrong, Uncle Shelly!" squeaked a small voice next to him, bringing Sheldon back to the present, and difficult task at hand. Sheldon looked down at the diaper hanging askew and gaping off Louis Messer's wriggling body. He sighed, nodding in agreement that turned to shame as the five-year old pulled up a stool beside him, "and he already wet that one!" Lucy exclaimed, pointing to the blue line appearing on the color changing diaper.

"Great observation, Lucy," Sheldon said, trying to keep his tone cheerful while reaching into the basket of diapers to try again. He groaned when his hand met the rough jute-weave bottom. Empty. Sheldon looked around the room expectantly, while keeping the increasingly restless baby pinned to the changing table with one hand. He knew Lindsay and Danny had to have a diaper supply somewhere. "Lucy, remember how your daddy said you would make a great assistant?"

Lucy nodded, her big blue eyes looking up at him, at the ready to prove she was a helpful big sister. "I am, mommy says I'm the bestest 'sisstant ever."

He couldn't help but smile at her slight lisp. "I'm sure you are. So do you think you could go get me another diaper to put on your little brother?"

"Yep, back in a flash, Uncle Shelly!" she said, racing off through the apartment.

Sheldon let out a long breath, the vibration of his lips serving as great delight in little Louis, who had now stripped himself of his own diaper and was clutching it in one chubby fist. "I do hope that is a white flag of surrender, young man," Sheldon said to the gurgling form below him. He heard Lucy's footsteps running back into the nursery and was about to sigh with relief until he saw her empty hands.

"I can't reach. And I can't climb on chairs anymore because Auntie Gus says that's how the twins learned to be monkeys," Lucy quipped from the door frame, a slight pout on her face, "but I'm still a good 'sisstant, right?"

Sheldon was beginning to understand how the little girl had Danny wrapped around her pinkie. "You are still a great assistant, the bestest," he replied with a smile before looking down at Louis. "Alright, sir, this will have to do for now," he said, wrapping a blanket tightly around the youngest Messer and scooping him up before instructing Lucy to lead him to where the extra diapers were kept.

As was the case in most New York apartments, Danny and Lindsay had not wasted an inch of space when it came to storage and had converted a closet in their room into what looked to Sheldon like a warehouse of infant and childhood accoutrements. He spied the case of Pampers on the very top shelf, glowing under the bulb like a holy grail. Sheldon shifted the baby to his left hip, reaching up with his right hand to take hold of the plastic binding the diapers. It was a reach even for him, but he wasn't about to set the baby down diaper-less on his friends' perfectly made bed. His fingers caught hold of a corner of plastic and he swayed back the other way, using the momentum of gravity to do the lifting for him, shocked at the weight of the bundle. Sheldon pursed his lips as he fought for control of the writhing infant, his balance and the diapers and inwardly cursed as a shoebox came tumbling down behind the prize. Feeling moisture spread across his hip, Sheldon looked at the upended box with disdain, he would deal with the mess latter. For now he had to get a diaper on this bottom.

"At least you are well-hydrated," he remarked as he carried Louis back to the nursery, feeling no sense of pride as he enlisted Lucy's assistance in successfully cladding the youngest Messer in a dry diaper.

After placing baby and bottle in his crib and ensuring Lucy was enthralled with the slime lab he had picked up on the way over, Sheldon made his way back to Danny and Lindsay's inner sanctum. He felt a bit like he was intruding on a very private part of their lives, especially without an infant writhing on his hip, but he didn't want his mess to mar their return. He took in their sanctuary with the trained eye of a detective, realizing just how much care Lindsay (he assumed) had put into creating a refuge far removed from the horrors they faced on the job and was thankful he was marrying Camille, whose career as a healer meant that she automatically ensured a place of well-being for them both.

Sheldon surveyed the debris on the floor, happily concluding it was minimal and that only the one shoe box of mementos had fallen. He was almost finished placing the keepsakes back in their rightful box when his hands closed around what he thought was just another paper token, just another memory captured in ink. It wasn't until he was set the card stock back in the box that he recognized its significance. The child's dark eyes stared up at him, the embodiment of innocence and purity. Sheldon's eyes flicked over to the text. "In loving memory of Ruben Sandoval" he read aloud. He thought back to that horrible day, what now seemed like eons ago, how close Danny had been to crossing the point of no return, of how crushed Lindsay had been at his reaction, at her own perceived ineptitude. Of how close they had been to not creating a wonderful life together and two amazing children. Sheldon felt his breath catch in his throat, his heart seizing up for the briefest of moments as he thanked what greater power may exist that he had found and was about to marry the person that most completed him, the ying to his yang."We all have that one case that haunts us," he remarked as he firmly placed the lid back on the box and slid it back into it's rightful nook.


	2. Keep in the Sunlight ft Sid (place mood)

_From my own forum challenge, I received Sid in Grand Central Station and autopsy with a mood of worried. I hope I did Sid justice. My mind kept wandering with this one._

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Sid looked down wearily at his latest charge lying on the marble floor. Even in death, the bloom of her youthful beauty had not been entirely erased: her dark tresses fanned against the blush of the veining of the tiles beneath her, her alabaster skin caught in a golden halo as the first rays of morning light danced through the massive arched windows, her pale blue eyes fixated on a point past Sid's shoulder, as if studying the comings and goings of the bustling crowds in the main concourse. Her lips heavily painted in an unfortunate crimson color that matched the puddle that had seeped out from beneath her silk-clad torso.

He set his bag down, kneeling next to the body to begin his field inspection, careful to not disrupt any essential evidence that still may be present on the girl, no, body he corrected himself. Even after all these years in the field, some cases still got to him. Especially those cases where the victim still had so much of their life ahead of them, had barely taken a step on to the bramble path of adulthood. It didn't help that this victim bore more than a slight resemblance to Sid's youngest daughter. His headstrong, stubborn, fiercely intelligent youngest daughter who had recently announced that she was dropping out of college to follow her reprobate boyfriend across Europe. What was supposed to be a happy family dinner the evening before had turned into yelling (from his daughter), tears (from his wife) and stomach-wrenching anxiety over what was to become of his progeny (from him). This call out had almost been a welcome relief from Sid's tossing and turning after the final door had been slammed announcing Sofia's angry departure.

Sid spent a good deal of his life in a state of anxiety. A peculiar child raised by aging grandparents, Sid had sought solace in science and medicine because of its promise to offer concrete answers and incontestable results. His career choice provided only a modicum of solace, however, Sid fretted over the seemingly endless array of 'what ifs' that constantly scurried across the landscape of his thoughts like a field mouse, disrupting any shred of security he attempted to latch on to. He knew this was partly to blame for the deterioration of his first marriage, that and his old maladaptive ways of seeking solace from the unease of the world at the bottom of a scotch glass. Sid also believed it was how he had ended up married to and the father of such carefree and insouciant women. How many years had the women in his life been telling him to not worry, to let things go, to just be?

But how could he, especially when horrors like this kept happening? Sid shut out the incessant questioning of angry morning commuters barely staying outside the yellow tape, focusing on the young woman supine before him. He quickly located the mortal wound on her body, her grown shredded by the knife that had been plunged up in to her body, piercing her heart, through the right ventricle, Sid surmised, pericardial tamponade probably occurring, blessedly, within seconds. He also ignored Jo's chestnut eyes boring into him, wanting to release her team to begin the evidence collection process. He knew she also wanted to ask him how his treatments were going, to pester him as to why he was still working. He often wondered the same thing himself, unable to ever fully put into words how the only time he was able to stop the churning sea of worry was down there, in autopsy, filling in the blanks on how life morphed, often brutally, into death. That in answering those questions, he was able to keep his own anxieties at bay. He went through the motions at the scene as if on autopilot: approximate time and cause of death, explanation of the pooling of blood, assisting Detective Flack through his disbelief that nobody saw a girl being murdered in the middle of Grand Central Station. Pushing forward, much like the impatient commuting crowd, ticking off all the appropriate boxes on the paperwork that always followed cases like these.

Later, in the quietude of his autopsy suite, Sid stared down at the now naked form of the young woman, the work lamp over the stainless table casting a much harsher ring of light down on her form, rigor having contorted her face into a mask. Stripped of everything including her life, her makeup having been washed down the drain, the woman looked even younger than his daughter to Sid, more vulnerable, defenseless, exposed. He was struck with the meaningless of it all; here one minute, gone the next, was there even a point? But Sid flung the darkness of these thoughts off, knowing there was purpose to every life, to every act. A quote his grandmother used to say to him, something from Benjamin Franklin, echoed through his mind as he readied himself to make the Y-incision, _Do not anticipate trouble, or worry about what may never happen. Keep in the sunlight. _If only it were that easy, he mused to himself, reaching for his scalpel.


	3. Come As You Are ft Adam (first person)

_This challenge from **LeslieEmm** was to write in first person based on the following prompts: Adam, Love, Beer. Here you go, also this story brought to you by lots of beer and South Padre Island._

* * *

Freedom, sweet freedom, it was just steps away; the stainless steel of the elevator doors shining like a beacon at the end of the hall. This month had been hella bad and all I wanted to do was disappear for a while; forget about the cases that wouldn't go away even long after I had clocked out, forget that it was my job to try to figure out who killed other people, forget that I had ever asked Mac Taylor for more field time when all it seemed to do was bring me pain, forget that I was Adam Ross the Lab Rat for just a few hours. I gripped the handles of my gym bag, smirking slightly to myself at its contents. The ding of the arriving elevator call was like a siren's call until I heard a familiar voice behind me yell, "yo, Adam, hold up!"

I groaned, turning slightly to see the smiling face of Danny Messer running toward me. "What now?" I grumbled, my shoulders sagging despite my willing them not to.

"Thanks, man, what a day, huh?" he said, slipping into the elevator beside me.

I breathed a sigh of relief, happy I was not being called back into the depths of the lab. "Sure has been," I replied, trying to be polite while willing the elevator to move faster. I caught Danny looking curiously down at my bag. He couldn't know, could he? There was no way, I had been so careful!

"Hitting the gym, Ross?" he asked, looking at me with an almost hopeful glint in his eye.

"Er, um, maybe," I stammered out, feeling the flush rise in my cheeks, silently admonishing my self for being an idiot. I was carrying a gym bag, it was a completely reasonable question.

"Wanna strap on the gloves and go a few rounds?" Danny asked, "I've already missed tucking Lucy in and Lindsay told me I was on my own for dinner."

I froze, feeling like a deer in headlights, how could I get out of this? I could tell him the truth, but I wasn't prepared to let anyone know yet, not to mention I would be subject to the ridicule of Danny freaking Messer for the rest of my days in the lab. I could lie, but why would I be carrying a gym bag if I wasn't going to the gym? Think, Ross, think! "Can't," I finally stammered out, my face feeling like it was a thousand degrees.

Danny looked me up and down carefully, his detective's gaze taking in the evidence and settling on my flushed face. "You got a date, don't you? Little Adam Ross is finally growing up. Is it someone from the lab? A cop? Badge bunny? Come on, spill it, I'm an old married man and all my sources for good bachelor stories are drying up!"

"It's nothing," I said, chewing on my lip and staring at my well-worn chucks, unable to look at him for fear that everything would come pouring out.

Danny sighed, "fine, fine, leave me hanging, I see how it is. At some point though, yous and me are going to have a beer and have a nice long chat about your mystery woman." The elevator arrived at the ground floor, saving me from myself. "Have a nice date," Danny sing-songed as he stepped off the elevator, giving me a mock salute.

I hadn't taken two steps before I heard, "getting to escape early I see!"

"Er, yeah, I guess so. You just coming on?" I said to Sheldon, waiting to disappear into the same crowd that had swallowed Danny.

Sheldon nodded, "volunteered for a night rotation, could use the time and half."

I nodded in time with him, unsure of how to reply, but he rescued me. "Please tell me I'm not stuck by myself?"

"Mac is still here, big shock, I know, pretty sure boss man lives here!" I quipped, nervously, looking around, feeling desperate.

"If I hadn't stayed at his condo, I would agree with you, Adam. See you around," Sheldon replied, looking at me oddly.

"Bye, Hawkes," I squeaked out, kicking myself for my voice coming out two octaves too high. He gave me one last long look before striding toward the elevator.

I wiped the beads of sweat that had formed off my forehead, grateful to be stepping out into the cool night air. I heaved a sigh of relief, deciding to walk to my destination, even if the subway might get me there faster. Despite years of living and commuting in the city, there was something about being packed like a sardine with hundreds of strangers in a rolling tin can underground that didn't appeal to me. No sooner had I felt the knots begin to loosen themselves from my neck that I spotted two familiar figures exiting the precinct next to the skyscraper that housed the lab. I crossed my fingers, praying they would turn the other corner and not see me walking toward them. I should have known better than to think luck would be on my side.

"Hey, Adam!" I heard Gus drawl, a sunny grin spreading across her face as she moved from Flack's side and bounded toward me.

Normally, I would have welcomed her jubilant hug and subsequent dinner invitation, feeling like we still hadn't fully caught up since she had been away, but a glance at my watch told me I was running late and Flack didn't look like he was in much of a sharing mood. "Rain check?" I begged more than asked, ducking Gus' piercing gaze and Flack's raised eyebrows.

"Sounds great, see you 'round, Ross," Flack said, slipping an arm across Gus' waist and leading her gently away.

I blew an errant curl off my forehead, rushing away from my friends before Flack changed his mind and decided to interrogate me, shivering as I recalled the times I had seen him face down scumbags. I almost jumped out of my skin when I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Are you sure you are alright, sugar?" Gus drawled, looking at me with worried, wide eyes. She was a good friend, I couldn't fault her for that, there had been plenty of times in the past when she had been the only one who chased after me, the only one to care. I knew she was only worrying because of the Dumonde case, but that had been weeks ago. "Yeah, totes cool, really," I squeaked, forcing myself to not run my hand nervously through the hair. "Go on, we'll hang soon," I said, gesturing with my chin towards where Flack was impatiently waiting.

"You promise you're fine, pinky swear?" Gus pressed one last time, but a smile was replacing her worried furrow.

"Promise, now don't make Flack wait for food," I said, turning before I spilled my guts to her and her damn psychologist voodoo.

I practically ran away the second she turned, cutting up Bowery to where it split into 3rd. A few blocks from my destination, I realized I had still been practically running and was covered in a layer of sweat despite the chill of the fall night. I ducked around a corner, hoping to collect myself thinking back to the first time I had stumbled upon my guilty pleasure...

It wasn't the type of establishment I would normally frequent and Kips Bay was far removed from my hipster Brooklyn neighborhood. Not to mention I was hella more indie than any of the regulars. I had only been up that way because I was supposed to be checking out a new band but they tweeted the wrong address and my phone was flashing low battery at me and I was desperate to find a place to plug in. It was then when I rounded the corner that I literally ran into a supple form that would have been gorgeous if she hadn't been sobbing. I dug through my messenger bag, handing her a tissue, more out of reflex than anything. Between her tears and an accent that made Gus sound like a Manhattan native, I wasn't really sure of anything she said, but I couldn't just leave her there, it was late and dark and I knew for a fact what happened to pretty, vulnerable young women in this city and the last thing I wanted was to see was her on Sid's table.

After finally getting Sarah Katherine, yes that was her name, calmed down, we headed back into the bar where her friends had abandoned her. She was new to the city, freshly divorced (which seemed so foreign to me since she was two years younger than me) and had come here with a group of young alumni from her college to watch the football game. Their team was losing horribly and decided to leave at halftime, but she had been in the restroom when they made this decision and left, and now couldn't reach them, her phone having also died. At least this is what I think her story was, because I literally could only understand about every fifth honeyed word from her pouting lips. Call me a sucker for a pretty girl in distress or maybe I was just lonely because everyone else seemed to be happily in love around me, except maybe Mac, but come on, it is Mac, but I just couldn't leave Sarah Katherine alone in a new city in a bar! So I stayed and let her cry it out and tell me her story and then let her repay me in beer and dance lessons. And I have to say it was one of the best nights I had had in a long time, especially fully clothed. And so, every Saturday night I found myself able to escape from the confines of the lab, I made my way up to Kip's Bay.

I paused, half a block away, moving to the less busy side street, pulling off my sneakers and reaching into my gym bag. A couple of adjustments later and I was ready. Taking a deep breath and letting it and all the worries of the job out, I strode confidently towards the glass door, swinging it open and was instantly transported to a different world. The bartender immediately caught my eye and gave me a broad smile, "Adam, you made it! Got a cold one just waiting for you!" she chirped, sliding a icy beer bottle toward me, "the gang's already upstairs," she said pointing to the rust colored staircase.

"Thanks, Nikki," I said, grabbing the beer and taking a greedy pull, ignoring the angry glares of those who had been trying to flag the overwhelmed bartender down. Being a regular had its privileges. I bounded up the stairs, my re-shod feet clacking against the metal stairs. The air was immediately warmer and more humid up in the loft area, the strings of cactus lights and neon beer signs casting the only glow other than the stage lights.

My eyes hadn't even fully adjusted before a flying mass of denim, tanned flesh and long hair came flying at me. "Yay y'all, Adam's here!" Sarah Katherine squeaked as she pulled me into a hug. "Nice duds, cowboy," she said, taking in the outfit I had scoured three bouroughs to find.

"What, this old thing?" I quipped, tipping my new to me hat at her with a wink.

"You're hilarious Adam, now come on, show me how you move in those new boots, after all, they are playing your song," she said, gesturing to the cover band crowded on the small stage.

I took her outstretched hand, cocking my head as I listened, realizing the band was playing the song Sarah Katherine first attempted to teach me to dance to. I smiled at her, falling easily into her arms and twirled her across the dance floor, singing along. "I love this bar, it's my kind of place, just walking through the front door puts a big smile on my face. It ain't too far, come as you are..." It was only as I spun her out and pulled her back against my chest that I froze, my two worlds colliding at a rapid pace.

"Why Adam Ross, I don't remember seeing anything about you liking country music in your file!"

"J-J-Jo!" I stammered out as Sarah Katherine looked back and forth between me and my newish co-worker. "We'll, it's sorta a new thing and I just really never, you see the thing is, my phone and I was walking and Sarah Katherine was-" I found myself turning back into a stammering idiot, my confidence deflated like a days old balloon.

"Oh, hush now, Adam, your secret is safe with me, as long as your are willing to two-step with this old filly for a dance or two!" Jo said with a wide smile to me and a wink to Sarah Katherine, "and don't stop singing on my account, I love this bar too!"


	4. A Moment ft Stella-Reed (events)

**A Moment to Catch Fire**

**Kates89 Events Challenge **

**Stella, Reed, and an award ceremony. **

_Set between seasons 8 and 9, mostly canon with my own twists and interpretations. A million virtual cookies to whomever guesses what show the title comes from_

* * *

Reed more sensed than saw the woman slide into his row, sitting next to him. He barely glanced up from his phone, busy texting a source on where to meet up later. He glanced over out of the corner of his eye, taking in the cascade of curls concealing her face, crossing and re-crossing her long, tanned legs. There was something familiar about her, but Reed couldn't entirely place her, obviously she was connected to Mac, otherwise why would she be here? She seemed out-of-place though, a colorful flower in the middle of a sea of navy dress uniforms. That was why Reed had chosen to sit in the back, his cheap ill-fitting suit also seeming out-of-place, but it was the best he could afford on his meager salary and he was refusing to be subsidized by his parents anymore; hadn't they done enough just by adopting him and supporting him through college and journalism school? Confirming his meet up spot, he slipped his phone into the inner pocket of his jacket and settled back in the folding chair, waiting on the ceremony to begin. It was then that the woman shook back her glossy, dark mane, revealing her features.

"Stella?" Reed asked, pulling himself up straight again. It seemed forever since had last seen Mac's former second in command, he wondered if she had been back since she left to run the lab in New Orleans. He had thought it odd that she hadn't come to visit while Mac was in the hospital, he always had his suppositions about the depth of their relationship. But then again, Mac always seemed to have a steady stream of women he kept at arm's length, as evidenced by those that kept vigil over him in the hospital.

"Reed, how are you?" Stella replied, a smile spreading across her face, her teeth almost blinding in their whiteness. She hadn't bothered to look down the aisle as she slipped in to the first available seat she spied, her flight from New Orleans had been delayed and she was worried she was going to miss seeing Mac Taylor receive his long overdue Medal of Honor. Well that wasn't entirely true, her former boss had been offered the medal in the past for his acts of bravery in the line of duty, but he had always stoically refused to accept it. Apparently being shot in the back and nearly dying had changed his mind. Or maybe something, no, someone else had.

Stella had heard chatter about a new woman in Mac Taylor's life, but just snippets. The longer she was in New Orleans, the further away New York seemed. Lindsay had less and less time to talk as Danny, Lucy and the job took up more and more of her time, especially now that they were talking about expanding their family and moving further out to accommodate such an expansion. Sheldon checked in on her from time to time, something that had surprised her, considering their relationship never seemed to expand beyond the confines of the lab, but Sheldon was Sheldon and his news was usually about some journal article he had read or a new piece of lab equipment. She had exchanged letters with Sid, but he was more likely to talk about gruesome trivia or the crazy cases the team was working on. Adam, well Adam seemed the most relieved when she moved away, their relationship an odd dance since their dalliance after Angell died, and he only barely mumbled a handful of words to her the last time she had been back in town for Gus and Don's wedding, and that had been an extremely abbreviated trip due to her endless stream of duties mounting in her new home.

Stella had learned first hand just how difficult it was being the boss, something she had gotten a brief taste of when Mac when gallivanting off to London after blowing the damn lab up, but rebuilding a lab in a pretty corrupt town after a major hurricane was a whole different ball game, even years later. Some days she wanted to tuck her tail between her legs and come begging back to New York, but her stubborn pride prevented her. And all in all, New Orleans actually suited her; she had made great friends, got to pick her own team, loved the cost of living and had been dating a very handsome ADA for the past several months. She had settled in, no longer a stranger in a strange land, Stella was creating, perhaps for the first time in her life, her own _real_ home. Stella shook her head, her curls bouncing, pulling herself back into reality, realizing Reed had stopped talking and was waiting on her to answer. "I'm sorry, I must still be scattered from the flight," she said.

"It's okay, I was just asking how long you were staying," Reed said, looking the woman over carefully. She had seemed suddenly a million miles away. He took in her massive curls, piercing blue eyes and statuesque features, chuckling to himself about how he had once thought she was his birth mother. Other than being fiercely independent and intelligent, the two women couldn't have been more different. Gus had been able to tell him a lot more about Claire than Mac ever had, her photographs revealing a woman who looked nothing like the one sitting next to him. But there had been something about the way Stella carried herself around Mac, the way she looked at him that led Reed to believe that there was some sort of deep connection between them, ergo how he thought Stella was Claire. How long ago that seemed now.

"Just until tomorrow, this may be the city that never sleeps, but New Orleans is the city that never stops," Stella said with a wry grin, interrupted by the Police Commissioner stepping up to the podium.

"We are here today to honor one of the greatest among us. Someone who wears the badge proudly, who truly embodies everything it stands for, someone who has -many times- risked his own life to protect and serve the great people of New York City. He has been given numerous accolades and awards by the department, his personnel file is filled with letters from grateful citizens whom he has assisted over his long and illustrious career. He has actually earned this award on more than one occasion, but has refused to accepted it until the Mayor himself insisted he accept. The New York City Police Department Medal of Honor is the highest law enforcement medal of the NYPD. The Medal of Honor is awarded for individual acts of extraordinary bravery performed in the line of duty at extreme risk and danger to life and it is my honor and privilege to present it to one of the finest of New York's finest, Detective and head of the New York City Crime Lab McKenna 'Mac' Llewellyn Taylor." The Commissioner draped the green ribbon and medal over Mac's head and around his neck, the crowd's thunderous applause barely muffled by their white gloves.

Reed wolf whistled and clapped loudly while Stella grinned from ear to ear, tears of pride and joy springing to her eyes. "Come on, let's go congratulate him," Reed said, grabbing at Stella's arm.

Stella pulled back slightly, seeing the team swarm around Mac's figure. She could tell he was fighting down a blush and was incredibly uncomfortable at all the scrutiny. It was why he had turned down or didn't show up for most awards the entire time they had worked together. "It's fine, I can catch up with him later," she said, "but you go," she continued, pushing Reed forward. She watched as Reed made his way through the well-wishers to Mac's side, going from a handshake to a hug. She continued to smile on, watching as Reed said something into Mac's ear and followed his gaze as it moved from Reed out over the crowd and settled on her. Stella forced herself to ignore the beat her heart skipped as Mac's eyes met hers, the corner's of his mouth turning up in that smile he had given her so many times over the years, usually when she poked fun at him or adjusted his tie against his will. He started to raise his hand in greeting, or perhaps to wave her over but was stopped by a new blonde figuring appearing at his side. And like that, the bond between them was broken, Mac's attention turned entirely to the woman beaming up at him in adoration. Stella nodded in realization and resolution, "Good for you, Mac," she said to herself, before turning to hail a cab and see if she could catch an earlier flight back home.


	5. Carry On ft Jo (room wa view challenge)

_**Carry On**_

_**Challenge: **__**A room with a view (static setting) from GeorgeAndrews**_

_**Prompts: **__**Jo Danville /John Curtis, repulsed/sickened, someone you love/loved**_

_**A/N: So I went with a spooky Halloween theme, with a sort of Supernatural crossover, and it feels a bit sloppy because I could have written pages but I am so behind on things, so take this as it is!**_

* * *

It had happened again, the third time this week. Jo Danville bolted upright from where she had fallen asleep on the couch, covered in sweat with a pounding heart, unable to shake the image of that monster pinning Ellie to the ground, his hand pulling down her yoga pants as Jo stood rooted to the ground, unable to help, her gun disappearing from her holster each time she grabbed for it...

She sat in her darkened living room, the lights of the city glimmering in the distance, providing false light and false hope to the slumbering inhabitants of the city. Her hands wrapped around the mug of tea, desperately seeking warmth and comfort from its contents, something to soothe her stomach and her constitution. Jo hated that John Curtis was influencing her from beyond the grave, that he was still able to cause her gut to roll in revulsion. She cursed herself and Ellie for watching that _Supernatural_ marathon on her last day off. "I hope you are rotting in hell!" she swore, her anger clenching her jaw, tightening the muscles of her body.

A cold chill swept through the living room, raising goosebumps on Jo's flesh. A crack of lighting punctured the velvet midnight sky, the following thunder echoing over the concrete cityscape, setting off alarms that pierced the night with electronic shrieks and howls. "At least nobody is sleeping now," Jo mused, wandering over to the window to observe the autumnal thunderstorm roll over the island. She gripped her mug in one hand while rubbing herself with her other arm, feeling suddenly very alone in a cold city, Ellie away on a college visit, probably having the time of her life. Another bolt of lightning crisscrossed the sky, a deafening boom of thunder, the city plunging into suffocating darkness as a vital transformer exploded in a fountain of sparks and the power grid was immediately overwhelmed. Jo closed her eyes for a brief moment, taking a long drink of her tea, thinking off all the thunderstorms she used to welcome from the porch of her grandmama's house growing up. 'Frog stranglers' they used to call them, the rain lashing out sideways, thunder and lightning locked in a mating dance that lit up the sky. There was something so powerful about those storms, and so cathartic, how different the world looked right after them, the sun coming back out and everything seeming such a vivid green, the dark soil swollen from the rain that had washed all the cares and worries of the world away...

But not this storm, not in this city, not on this dark night. There was nothing cathartic about this, Jo thought, this storm seemed full of anger and spite. She opened her eyes again, as if willing daybreak to come faster, for the ConEdison workers to do their jobs at superhuman speed. It was then she saw the figure behind her, lit only by the small emergency light she had mounted on the wall. Her mug went crashing to the floor, the ceramic smashing as it hit the hardwoods, the hot liquid seeping into her flannel pajamas.

"Sorry to disappoint, Jo," said the only voice that could truly repulse and sicken her.

It was impossible, it couldn't be, this defied all logic! Jo gasped, whirling around to face him, wincing as she stepped on a shard from her mug, it biting into her flesh with ease. "You aren't real, you are dead!" Jo exclaimed, hoping this would banish this horrible specter from her home.

"I may be, toots, but I am still here, John Curtis in the...well not flesh exactly, but certainly not rotting in hell!"

"You should be!" Jo shouted back, wondering if the job had finally gotten to her, if she had finally gone crazy.

Curtis looked at her mockingly, seemingly comfortable, something that made Jo's skin crawl more than a dead man reappearing in her abode. He shouldn't be settled anywhere and he damn near shouldn't be floating serenely through her living room! "No!" Jo shouted.

"No, what?" Curtis replied with a cackle.

"You don't get to..." she trailed off.

"Get to what?" he challenged.

"Get to float through here like you own the place, like you aren't a despicable shell of a waste of human flesh. There ain't no humanity in your soul, there probably wasn't any there to begin with!" Jo spat out the words, her anger and shock outweighing her fear and calling her drawl to the forefront. Curtis' figure wavered slightly, which Jo took as a sign. Her training kicked in and she decided to treat him like any other Unsub. " What happened to you as a child, John, did nobody ever love you, is that why you could never find somebody to love?"

His response struck her very core, her body betraying her as dry heaves wrenched her stomach. "On the contrary, dear Jo, I loved each and every one of those girls, and I showed them exactly how much. And don't think just because I am dead, I won't do the same to your dear Ellie." He raised his eyebrows at her, the smug smirk of satisfaction spreading across his face.

"You will not harm her!" Jo roared. She fought her repulsion, her mind harkening back to that ridiculous show, salt, she needed salt. She rushed across the living room to the galley kitchen, tearing open the cabinets, rifling through them, clearly on a mission. Her palm found the blue cardboard container, wrapping around it. She poured it around her in a circle, wishing she had some spray paint. Now what was she supposed to do? There was some ridiculous Latin chant, suddenly it came to her: "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus..." oh this was beyond ridiculous, it would never work, like any of this was real, "omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica," Jo continued, wonder where this was coming from,

"Chant all you want, Jo Danville, you will never be rid of me," Curtis sneered. Though his figure started to flicker.

Jo pressed on, "ergo, draco maledicte. Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos!"

As she screamed out the last words, Curtis' figure disappeared and Jo felt a hand on her shoulder, a familiar voice saying, "Mom, mom, wake up!"

Jo opened her eyes, still on the sofa, the living room still dark, save for the tv flickering in the corner. She looked around in wonder, what had happened?

"You were yelling in your sleep mom, something in Latin," Ellie said, sitting on the couch next to her mother.

"Was I?"Jo asked, trying to get her heart rate under control and taking in her, safe, surroundings.

"Uh, yeah, like really loud. Maybe we should wait a while before we start the next season. The Winchester brothers are cute, but they aren't cute enough for you to lose sleep over!" Ellie said with a smirk.

"That is true," Jo replied, stretching and rising from the couch. "Ouch," she exclaimed, her foot crunching on something.

"You alright?" Ellie asked, her forehead wrinkling in worry.

"It's nothing," Jo said, looking at the piece of ceramic embedded in her foot.

"If you say so," she said, wandering toward the kitchen, "I'm getting a glass of milk, do you want anything?"

Jo shook her head no, staring in wonder at the ring of salt her daughter had just unknowingly traipsed through, her slippers leaving tracks in the grain. It had all just been a nightmare, right?


	6. Hurricane Drunk ft Adam (quote 2)

**_Hurricane Drunk (title from Florence + The Machine song)_**

**_Another Quote Challenge from __TheDeep _**

**_Prompts: Adam/Lucy Messer and, well, you'll see on the quote!_**

**_I apologize for its brevity, but it is what it is!_**

* * *

Adam groaned as the power flickered and finally went out, the rain lashing against the house, the wind howling around them like an untamed beast. He turned on the camping lantern to light the dim living room, ignoring the creepy shadows it cast from beneath the homemade fort he had constructed with Lucy a couple of hours before. He emerged from beneath the blankets with a fake smile plastered on his face as Lucy curled next to a couch cushion, strangling a stuffed bear, her eyes wide with terror, her thumb stuck in her mouth, her forehead wrinkled in worry. Adam didn't blame her, hell, he wanted to join her thumb-sucking and all. "Stay here, I'll be right back, I just want to take a look out the window," Adam said as he backed out.

Crap, crap, crap. Why did stuff like this always happen to him? Why did he have to be so damn nice and agree to watch Lucy? Why did Lindsay have to go into labor while another hurricane was bearing down on New York City? What was with him and Lindsay and having babies? Despite being terrified taking her to the hospital while in Labor with Lucy, Adam had to admit that was a million times better than being stuck in the outer reaches of Far Rockaway with a hurricane bearing down on them. Stupid Messers wanting a single family home to raise their children. Stupid Mac for not calling him essential personnel and making him go back to the lab. Stupid him for agreeing to babysit.

"Are we gonna die, Uncle Adam?" Lucy sniffed through her tears, trying to put on a brave face and be a good big sister like she knew her daddy wanted.

Adam gulped, unsure of what to say. He didn't want to lie to her, he had promised himself he would never lie to a child, not his own future children, not someone else's. He had been told so many lies as a child, had been hurt because of them. But he didn't want to scare Danny and Lindsay's little girl anymore than she already was.

How did he keep finding himself in impossible situations? Why did he ever agree to this? He should be at home, with Michelle, eating food from the fridge before it spoiled and drinking all the drinks and getting hurricane drunk.

Finally, it came to him, how to tell her the truth and also assuage her fears. "Look, Luce, I'm not going to lie to you. You're gonna die, I'm gonna die, we are all gonna die...just not today, I promise." As if mother nature was intent on working against him, a tree limb crashed through the window, sending shards of glass flying through the air towards them. Adam shielded Lucy with his body, wincing as a few splinters embedded themselves in his skin.

Adam decided then and there that the next time Lindsay Monroe Messer decided to get knocked up he was going to take a nine month leave of absence.

* * *

**Quote: You're gonna die, I'm gonna die, we are all gonna die...just not today, I promise. From _Battleship_**


	7. Abby Road ft Lindsay

Children Challenge from Kates89

Prompts: Lindsay, Abby Drake (city of the dolls), confused, slippers

So this is probably not what she meant with her children's challenge, but this is what came out. Hoping to get back to my main story after this since I have been requested to do so!

* * *

Lindsay sighed deeply, she really was at a loss and pressed for time. There was still so much she had to get done before she even left the lab today and she still had to pick Lucy up from a birthday party and swing by the dry cleaners and get home before the nanny had to leave before the babysitter came... And now, here she was spending her lunch break crammed in with all the other last minute shoppers in this overheated department store trying to pick out a gift for the Secret Santa gift exchange that night she didn't know she had even participated in until Danny happened to mention it while telling her they were out of coffee when she went to pour a mug on her way out the door this morning. Trying to weave her way through the desperate and panicked crowds she had worked so hard to avoid by finishing her own shopping weeks ago, all those neatly wrapped packages nestled under the tree or hidden in the attic awaiting Santa's arrival.

And course she had drawn Michelle, the person she knew the least of all the people connected through the lab. She couldn't have gotten Mac, where a nice conservative tie would have worked, or Jo or Ellie where she could have picked up some funky jewelry, or an ironic t-shirt for Adam or funny coffee mug for Sid or motivational best seller for Sheldon or an offer to babysit for Don and Gus or a nice cookbook for Christine. Even Camille had been around long enough that Lindsay had just spied the perfect trendy scarf for her...Lindsay fingered the material, wondering if it was Michelle's style, realizing just how little she knew about a certain lab rat's love interest.

"May I help you?" came the somewhat disaffected voice of the teenaged clerk standing in front of her.

"I don't know, maybe," Lindsay said, wrinkling her nose in frustration, which only grew when she caught sight of the clock over the young woman's head.

The girl looked at her, confused, and narrowed her eyes as if trying to recall where she knew Lindsay from. Lindsay knew this look, it is what happened when you spent a lot of time out in the city at crime scenes, scenes that were often a magnet for looky-lous, she had been half-recognized all over town. "I need a gift, for a co-worker's girlfriend, for tonight, I don't know anything about her other than that she is a dancer, Broadway kind not the pole kind," Lindsay spilled out in a rush, instantly embarrassing herself, this girl couldn't have been more than 16 and here she was referring to strippers.

"Um, yeah, so we have some nice slippers over here, they seem popular in your...situation," the clerk said, leading Lindsay over to a display of velvet slippers monogrammed with gold thread. She kept studying her with an intensity that caused Lindsay to pause.

Lindsay looked back at the girl, putting on her investigator hat. Long, dark hair but with lighter roots, recently dyed, she surmised, pale skin, pretty enough if not a little too skinny, but isn't that what all the young girls wanted to be these days? But those eyes, those green eyes, something about them seemed familiar...Lindsay flicked her own eyes over to the girl's name tag, Abby, it read. Lindsay's mind travelled back in time, to around the same time of year, snow covering the ground, the crowds rushing about in holiday madness, but that must have been, what? Eight years ago? "Abby Drake," she breathed out, the case coming back to her, a teacher having an affair with a student, her daughter's doll the only witness to the affair, that poor doll maker killed for nothing...

"Yes, that's me," Abby replied, still looking confused and like she desperately wanted to know who Lindsay was.

"I just-" Lindsay stopped herself, wanting to ask so many questions but also not wanting to bring up the past. "The slippers would be perfect, thank you," she finished quickly, plucking a pair off the shelf and heading toward the cash register before Abby could place her, not wanting to tarnish the girl's life anymore than fate already had.


End file.
